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“Of course.” Harper patted Scarlett’s hand. “I get it. This is our secret.”

Violet relaxed. “Exactly.”

“I love you both, but I need to get back to work. I’ll check in with you later.”

And before they could protest further, she briskly walked away.

Instead of retracing her steps through the skyways, she wound through the casino and emerged onto the Vegas Strip. The heat, noise and press of the crowd hit her like a rogue wave. How long had it been since she’d ventured beyond the insulation of Fontaine walls? She slept, ate and worked within a square city block, finding little need to explore the world outside. There was a drugstore attached to the hotel if she needed sundries. When she traveled, it was in a hired car that swept her to the airport and a private plane that carried her to her destination.

Always there was someone around to guide her to meetings and keep her on schedule. She’d never detoured because the mood hadn’t struck her. Her activities were planned and organized. It was the way she liked it. What had made her successful.

With more vigor than necessary, Harper pushed through the ground floor door that led into Fontaine Ciel’s casino. Nothing looked familiar. The persistent noise from the slot machines and the dazzling lights battered her senses. She had no idea how to get to her office. Disoriented, Harper turned in a slow circle. Confusion overwhelmed her. Harper put her arms out for balance as the edges of her vision began to darken.

“Harper, are you okay?”

She couldn’t remember the name of the man who spoke. Distantly she knew she should. That she dealt with him on a daily basis. Tom something. Tim maybe.

“I’m a little dizzy all of a sudden.” She shook her head, hoping to clear her vision. To her right was an open slot machine. “I just need to sit down for a second.” She took a step and swayed.

“Let me help,” Tom or Tim said, reaching for her arm.

She flinched away from his touch. Her skin felt as if it was

on fire. “No.” She reached the chair and dropped into it. “Sorry. I’ll be fine in a couple seconds. Perhaps you could get me a glass of water.”

“Sure.”

While he headed off to intercept a waitress, Harper closed her eyes and rubbed at her temples. Her brain was coming back online, allowing her to think more clearly. What the hell had just happened? From her symptoms she guessed it had been a panic attack. Made sense. Her whole world was spinning out of control.

By the time Tim Hoffman—she’d finally recalled the name of her facilities manager—returned with her water, Harper was on her feet and feeling much steadier. But her need to run hadn’t abated. For someone who always met problems head-on, she wasn’t sure what to make of the impulse to flee. Work wasn’t the remedy for her troubles. It was the cause of her angst. Better that she spend some time alone. To think. To sort out her emotions.

“I should have taken the skyway back from Richesse. Must have been the heat outside that made me dizzy.”

The short, dark-haired man looked relieved. “It’s warmer than usual, that’s for sure.”

“Thanks for the water.” Without another word, Harper headed for the elevators. Maybe an hour on her treadmill would enable her to reach some clarity.

Six

Ashton stretched out on the couch in his suite and stared at the ceiling. Beyond the wall of windows the day was fading and the Las Vegas Strip was lighting up. As much as he loved the fascinating sights he’d seen in some of the most remote spots on the planet, enjoying the luxury of a first-class hotel was an indulgence he appreciated most of all.

Unfortunately, his current career issues weren’t allowing him to put aside his worries and savor the lavender scented sheets, decadent bathroom or spectacular view. Vince had called this morning with bad news. Unless the producers of The Culinary Wanderer received his decision about filming in Africa three days from now they were cancelling the show.

As much as Ashton hated having anyone force his hand, he should be relieved that he would soon be free to sign with the Lifestyle Network. He and Phillips could part without bad feelings. But if everything was so great, why did he feel numb?

A knock sounded on his door. Shoving to a sitting position, Ashton ran his fingers through his hair and got to his feet. Dae had said he’d call later and see if Ashton wanted to check out the Strip. He hadn’t expected the kid to show up.

But it wasn’t Dae. The visitor at his door was so unexpected, he stood staring at her in dumfounded silence.

“Hi.” Harper stood in the hallway wearing stretchy gray pants that highlighted her long, lean legs and an oversized pale pink sweater that she wrapped tight around her body. “I probably should have called before stopping by.” Her casual attire and indecisive posture meant she hadn’t come here to talk business.

“No need. I was just thinking that I could use a little company.” He gestured her inside.

“That’s how I felt, too.” She shuffled in and gazed around the suite as if she hadn’t been instrumental in overseeing every aspect of the design and decor. Sounding dreamy and vague, she continued. “I enjoyed our conversation last night.”

“So did I.” Catching her hand, he drew her toward the couch. “Do you want some wine?”

“Sure.”

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